


Be My Eyes, Be My Ears

by NorthernWall



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Day Four: Protection, F/M, Mini Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernWall/pseuds/NorthernWall
Summary: In the midst of a battle, flash blindness and temporary deafness can be deadly. Fortunately, Olivier has a protector always at her side.





	Be My Eyes, Be My Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Happy reading!

For a moment it was all light and heat, and a dizzying sensation of being flung a great distance. Then her head struck the floor with a crack and everything was cold and dark. Olivier scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, staggering forward as the reverberations of the explosions rattled the fort. She tasted blood, but that concerned her far less than the persistent ringing in her ears drowning out the noise of the battle, and the fact that she couldn’t see a thing.

She held her sword out in front of her, and felt for a wall to guide her. Hands grabbed her and she swung at them violently. They pulled away and she followed the wall until she found a corner. Blind and disoriented, she crouched defensively. She would never admit to anyone, but she was terrified.

Several times, weapons clashed against her own, and hands grasped at her arms. She fought back fiercely, relying on her muscle memory and a good concept of where an opponent’s limbs might be at any given time in a fight. There was blood running down her face, from her nose she thought, but couldn’t be sure. She didn’t waste time trying to wipe it up.

A hand closed around her wrist and she lashed out, slashing vehemently. The sword was twisted from her grip and she was backed against the wall. She kicked and hit, resulting in her hands being pulled tightly together, while her assailant’s body pressed her hard against the wall. She could feel rumbling vibrations from the person’s chest as though they were speaking, but she heard nothing.

Olivier threw herself up with the intent of headbutting her captor’s chin, but her head collided with a shoulder instead. She stilled at the familiar feeling of a Briggs greatcoat. The hands holding hers eased their grip slowly, as though wary.

Gently, arms wrapped around her and hoisted her up. She kicked in protest, Briggs man or not, she would not be carried like a child. Her head fell against his shoulder and her forehead brushed _very familiar_ sideburns. Relief flooded her at the realization: _Miles_. 

She conceded to his embrace and the next few minutes were a jostling journey. She tried to mark the turns and curves, but found herself too dizzy. After several minutes, she was lowered to the ground, and something was draped over her. A cloth swiped at her face, trying to clean it, and then was pressed against her nose. Miles gripped her hand and wrapped it around the bloody bundle, and then leaned her head down.

Into her other hand, he pressed her sword. For a moment, he shifted her hand and wrist, until he was satisfied with how she was holding it. He pulled away, and when she tried to follow, pushed her back down. She struggled and he pressed her down more firmly. After a moment she gave up and his lips brushed over hers and then pressed softly to her cheek. She resigned herself to waiting.

Slowly, her vision came back in spots and bursts of color, and the ringing in her ears slowly quieted. She thought she might be in a storage room from what she could see, but that wasn’t information of much use. Through the disorienting haze, she focused on what she could sense. The walls and floors were cold, and she dimly smelled chemicals. The blood flowing from her nose was finally clotting, making her huff for air. She lowered the handkerchief and trailed her fingers over her corner, they connected with something fibrous and vaguely slimy. She jolted before realizing it was a mop. Miles had stuck her in a mop closet. She cursed him under her breath. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them, closing her eyes and willing the pain in her head to die down.

A hand brushed her cheek and she jolted, world spinning. Inches from her face she could see two glowing red orbs, and after a moment she realized they were Miles’ eyes. He spoke but it sounded like they were underwater. She frowned, and he shifted away.

After a moment he was lifting her again, carrying her out of the store room, not in a hurry to escape fighting, but gently, bridal style. She rested her head against his shoulder and tried to close her eyes, but he tapped her cheek and she blinked sluggishly awake. He spoke continuously on their journey, but she couldn’t make out individual sounds, let alone words. Again and again, her eyes fluttered shut only to be jolted awake again.

The infirmary was safe enough, but when Miles lowered her onto a bed, she clutched his arm and refused to let him leave her. He took her hand, and sank down beside her. Doc might have fussed, he was probably in the way, but Olivier couldn’t care less. She was warm and safe. With Miles beside her, she was and would always be protected.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Sorry this is so short, I'm not great at filler if I know what I want to say. The reason for the battle wasn't important to the story, so I hope that wasn't too confusing for anyone.


End file.
